ere
mere boy and girl then. It was nothing--nothing at all.

Olive did not think so; and, contrasting all this with similar
circumstances in her pet poems and novels, she wove a very nice romance
round Charles Geddes and her beloved Sara, whom she now began to look
upon with greater interest and reverence than ever. This did not prevent
her reading Sara a great many lectures on constancy, and giving her own
opinions on what true love ought to be--opinions which were a little
too ethereal for Miss Derwent's comprehension, but which she liked very
much, nevertheless.

Olive took quite an affectionate interest in her friend's lover--for
lover she had decided that he must be. Not a day passed that she did not
eagerly consult the _Times'_ "shipping intelligence;" and when at last
she saw the name of Charles Geddes' vessel, as "arrived," her heart
beat, and tears sprang to her eyes. When she showed it to Sara, Olive
could hardly speak for joy. Little simpleton! she counted her friend's
happiness as if it were her own. She kept the secret even from her
mother; that is, in the only manner Olive would conceal aught from any
one so beloved, by saying, "Please, mamma, do not ask me anything." And
Mrs. Rothesay, who, always guided by some one, was now in a fair way
to be entirely guided by her daughter, made no inquiries, but depended
entirely upon Olive's wisdom and tenderness.

Charles Geddes came to Oldchurch. It was quite a new life for Olive--a
changed life, too; for now the daily rambles with her friend were less
frequent. Instead of which, she used to sit at her window, and watch
Sara and Charles taking long strolls in the garden, arm-in-arm, looking
so happy, that it was beautiful to see them.

Who can describe the' strange, half-defined thoughts which often brought
tears to the young girl's eyes as she watched them thus! It was no
jealousy of Sara's deserting her for Charles, still less was it envy;
but it was a vague longing--a desiring of love for love's own sake. Not
as regarded any individual object, for Olive had never seen any one in
whom she felt or fancied the slightest interest. Yet, as she looked on
these two young creatures, apparently so bound up in each other, she
thought how sweet such a tie must be, and how dearly she herself could
love some one. And her yearning was always _to love_ rather than _to be
loved_.

One morning, when Olive had not seen Sara for a day or two, she
was hastily summoned to thei